The year just reaped three dangling months of its summer and the sun was adorably discharging splinters of light poking my opinionated curtain and then my grievous blankets

In the first ply of the tenth hour
There I was camouflaged by the yowling day
Yearning to broadcast my dream
Gleams of thoughts my sight hike
Erased doubts my father's tomb yield

I felt the thrill drill a key hole to the pitch of my silence
Bestowing the door to my solitary self made confinement
The world of souls gained flesh
Fresh from the womb a room to groom...